


The Things We Lost In The Fire

by ProbablyWastingTime



Series: Chasing After You Is Like A Fairy Tale [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/F, Families of Choice, Fem!Remus - Freeform, Fem!Sirius, Fem!Wolfstar, Fertility Issues, Genderbending, Lesbians, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Sirius Lives, Unconventional Families, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 18:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6999571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProbablyWastingTime/pseuds/ProbablyWastingTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After </p>
<p> "It’s never going to happen, a child would never be safe with me, I've accepted it. I don’t want to drag all those feelings up again,” Remus says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things We Lost In The Fire

When the dust settles, when life starts to feel just a little bit normal, Remus and Sirius are curled up on the sofa together, the sun warming them through the windows. 

Remus can’t see Sirius’ face from where she is, head on Sirius’ stomach, legs tangled together, but from the steady rise and fall of her chest, she has been asleep all afternoon. Remus wants to stay in this bliss with her, but at some point one of them is going to have to be the responsible one and prepare dinner.

She can’t actually see the clock, and doesn’t want to risk waking Sirius by turning, but the sun is low in the sky, so it must be near eight o’clock, she thinks. She starts mentally going through the contents of the pantry, trying to think of a quick, low effort meal she could make. 

The silence of the cottage is interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Remus groans lowly in her throat, not quite ready to return to reality. 

“Hello?” Harry calls from the entrance. 

“In here!” She calls back, and Sirius jerks up at the sound. She rubs her arm over her eyes and stretches, yawning as she calls out to Harry as well. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been sleeping all day?” Harry laughs. Sirius glares at him and flips him a finger that Remus quickly covers up and pulls down, so the offending hand is safely pinned to Sirius’ stomach. 

“We’re old, we are allowed to nap when we want,” Sirius says.

“Speak for yourself,” Remus huffs, climbing off of Sirius and heading into the kitchen. 

“Ah, never fear my dear Moony, we are going to live forever,” Sirius calls, hanging over the back of the sofa. Her hair is tied back and half coming loose, and next to Harry right now, they look like they could be, if not mother and son, then at least family. The thought leaves Remus’ heart feeling oddly cold. 

Rooting through the pantry, Remus hears footsteps behind her. She picks up a bag of spaghetti consideringly, wonders if they’ve had too much pasta the past couple of weeks, if she should really be that lazy again. A chair scrapes and someone sits with a small huff.

Remus puts the pasta back down as she says, “How was your day, Harry?” He laughs under his breath from behind her and she can hear the aching tiredness in it. “That bad?”

“Not bad, just… I don’t know. The Ministry’s still a mess but it’s getting better. I mostly spent the day with Hermione - she’s been working through a lot of admin stuff to help out. Today she was organising files for misplaced kids.” Harry sighs again, and Remus doesn’t need to hear it to know how he’s feeling.

Remus closes the pantry door, and turns to Harry. He’s sitting sideways from the dining table, staring down at his hands. “Do you feel like take away tonight? Fish and chips? Pizza?”

“Pizza sounds great,” Harry says, turning so he is facing the wall, elbow propped up on the table and chin on his hand. 

* * *

“I heard you talking in the kitchen earlier.” Sirius’ voice is quiet in the dark of their bedroom. She shifts over and turns to directly face Remus. 

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” Remus reaches out to brush Sirius’ hair out of her face. Her fingers tangle in the knots and Sirius holds her wrist to leave gentle kisses over her veins. 

“With Harry, about all the orphans at the ministry.” Sirius runs her fingers down Remus’ side, stopping at her waist to put her hand on the small of Remus’ back and pull her closer.

“Oh, yes. What about it?” Sirius lays kisses over Remus’ neck, trailing down her to her chest.

“Well, I was thinking. We are two fairly responsible parental figures, with a spare bedroom and lots of free time.” Sirius works her way over Remus’ collar bone, heading towards her cleavage. 

“I thought we were old women?” Remus jokes, and Sirius’ laugh against her breasts makes her shiver.

Sirius carries on kissing down Remus’ stomach, speaking between each press of her lips. “We could, You know? I want to.”   
  
Remus is stunned silent for a moment, but as Sirius’ lips reach her underwear, she says, “Sirius, stop.”

She resurfaces and lays back in her original position next to Remus. “What’s wrong?”

“We couldn’t ever do that.  _ I  _ couldn’t.” Remus can already feel tears prickling at her eyes. 

“Don’t say that. If we wanted to adopt a child, the ministry couldn’t stop us, not with Harry on our side, not after everything.” Sirius leans in to kiss her, but Remus backs away and slips out of bed.

“Sirius, please don’t do this. I can’t have this conversation.” She grabs some jeans off the floor and a jumper, throwing them on quickly and rushing out the room. 

* * *

The August night air is pleasant, and Remus gulps it down, trying to suppress the tears. They run down her face anyway, leaving dark spots on her jeans. The door opens behind her, so she scrubs furiously at her eyes to try and hide her crying. 

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice is rough and croaky. She sits on the steps next to Remus, puts her arm around her shoulders, and pulls her into a hug.

“Can we talk about this?” Sirius asks. She kisses the top of Remus’ head, runs her hand up and down Remus’ arm.

Remus sighs, drags her hand over her face, and starts speaking. “I’ve already gone through this all Sirius. I can’t have children - I physically cannot do it, and the ministry would never let me adopt. It’s never going to happen, a child would never be safe with me, I’ve accepted it. I don’t want to drag all those feelings up again.” She chokes on a sob with the last words.

“I never realised. I’m sorry Remus.” Sirius keeps kissing her hair gently, holding her in the night. “I won’t bring it up again, I’m sorry,” She whispers. 

* * *

One week later, Remus wakes to find a note next to her instead of Sirius. ‘Gone into London, see you later - Padfoot’, it reads and Remus rolls her eyes. She has no clue what Sirius needs to go into London for, but she can only guess that she is going to cause trouble. 

Remus sets about starting the morning. She casts a spell over the sink to clean last night's dishes, and grabs stuff for breakfast. . 

Harry comes down as the smell of frying bacon spreads through the cottage. His hair is messier than usual and his eyes are barely open, and he reminds her remarkably of Lily like this. 

“Coffee?” She asks, placing a mug on the table in front of Harry, as he grumbles out something completely unintelligible. 

As Remus sets two plates down on the table and grabs cutlery, Harry seems to awaken enough that Remus doesn’t feel too guilty asking, “So, do you know what Sirius is up to today?”

He stares at her for a few seconds, then looks at his food awkwardly, before saying, “No clue.”

Harry is a very bad liar, but he is also very loyal, and if he won’t spill whilst half asleep, then Remus knows she won’t get the truth from him at all. 

She ends up spending the day cleaning. Mostly. First just her and Sirius’ room, picking up after Sirius because she is a complete slob. Then she decides she might as well do all the laundry if she’s going to do Sirius’. She spells all the kitchen counters clean, magicks away every speck of dust in the house, and cuts back the tree branches hanging over the garden. 

It isn’t until late afternoon that Sirius returns, practically vibrating with energy and grinning madly. Harry slips out of the room as Sirius pulls Remus to the sofa and makes her sit.

“I know you said you didn’t want to hear any more about it-” 

“Oh Sirius, please don’t.” Remus can barely make it through the words. She doesn’t want this. She doesn’t want the pain.

“No, Moony, here me out.” Remus lets her breath out shakily, tears starting to track down her cheeks. She lets Sirius take her hands though. “We can do this. It’s all arranged already. They can’t stop us.”

Remus cries harder, but she smiles and look into Sirius’ eyes, trying to find any doubt, any fear or uncertainty. She doesn’t see it and folds herself into Sirius’ arms, sobbing into her shoulder. 

They sit there for what feels like hours, until Remus is just quietly sniffling. “We’ll need to clear out the spare room,” she says in her tear stained voice.

“Yeah. We can chuck it all into the attic.” Sirius speaks quietly. 

Remus huffs a small laugh. “We’ll need to go through the attic then, there’s not much room left up there.”

“Just shrink everything down.” The idea doesn’t sit right in Remus’ stomach.

“No, I don’t want to change anything. I’m sure we can make room up there.” 

Sirius kisses Remus’ cheek, ignoring the tears still lingering on her skin. “So sentimental,” she sighs. 

* * *

“What the fuck is in half these boxes?” Sirius asks, carrying a dusty cardboard box into the living room, where Remus and Harry have started going through and sorting each box. 

“Hey, language,” Remus admonishes. Sirius sticks her tongue out, then sneezes, ducking her head down so that her hair, tied into a loose knot, flicks over her head. “My parents stuff, mostly. Some of it’s mine as well, I guess. I never labelled the boxes so we’ll just have to see.”

They already have a half full bin bag of clothes to go to a charity shop, and a box with ‘Lyall and Hope Lupin’ scribbled on the side. Remus has Harry wrapping old photo frames in tissue paper and repacking them in the box, whilst she unpacks and sorts through the rubbish she’d never bothered to get rid of when she first put all these boxes away.

“You know what, I’ve changed my mind. You aren’t sentimental, you’re a hoarder.” Sirius dumps the box on the sofa, as the entire floor space is being taken up already. “There’s still quite a few boxes up there. I could start stacking them up in the kitchen?”

“I don’t think we’ll even get through these ones today,” Harry says. He places the last of the photos in the box and pulls a new box towards himself. Sirius steps into the small space and sits on her shins. 

“You’re right. I never realised how much I’ve just left up there.” Remus frowns at the boxes surrounding them.

“Because you’re a hoarder,” Sirius sing-songs. 

Remus just shakes her head and smiles as she opens the next box. It’s full of old clothes - all hers, from when she must have been a teen. She starts sorting through what is still usable, when she lifts up a black, velvet mini skirt.  

She stifles a surprised snort, looking up at the other two to check they haven’t noticed. To her dismay, Sirius is staring at the skirt in pure glee, eyes wide and bright. 

“I remember that skirt! Lily bought it for you, right?” Sirius reaches out and grabs it from Remus’ hands, whilst Harry perks up at the mention of his mother. “Did you even wear it?”

“Yes, once.” Remus smiles fondly at nothing in particular. “Lily practically forced me into it and drug me out clubbing.” Her voice went quiet and strained, but she carried on smiling. “We had fun.”

Sirius runs her fingers along the skirt, before sniffing and saying, “Keep, charity, or bin?” 

“You should keep it,” Harry says solemnly. He is looking at Remus with an odd expression that she can’t quite place. 

“Yeah, we’ll keep this. Maybe you’ll wear it again one day,” Sirius teases.

“Only if you start wearing those horrid platform boots again. What were they, ten inches? And bright pink?” Remus smiles mischievously at Sirius.

“Ahh, the seventies. What a decade.” Sirius carefully folds the skirt and places it in a box she’s labelled ‘Remus’ Crazy Teen Years’. 

Remus carries on sorting through the clothes, until Harry opens another box and says, “Hey, how old are you in this?” 

He’s holding a photo frame out to her. She takes it and realizes what it is - the photo used to sit on the coffee table in her and Sirius’ flat. There’s no glass in the frame because Sirius had knocked it over once in an argument and smashed it, and the photo is faded, but she can easily recognise a teenage Sirius with her arms around Remus. 

The Sirius in the photo keeps pulling Remus over to her to kiss her cheek, whilst Remus giggles and pulls away. In the background a parade moves past them, and Remus can just make out the rainbow painted on Sirius’ cheek.

“We must have been what? Eighteen, nineteen?” Remus looks to Sirius for confirmation, but she is staring at the photo with an almost fearful expression.

Her voice is so quiet that Remus very nearly doesn’t catch it when Sirius says, “I don’t remember.”

“It’s okay.” Remus swallows and reaches out for Sirius’ hand. “It was pride in Brighton. We used to go every year.” Remus rubs her palms over the back of Sirius’ hand, but she just keeps staring at the photo.

“I remember breaking it,” She says. “I smashed it.” Her eyes finally meet Remus’ and they are filled with horror and self-hate.

“So? It was an accident, and it’s not like I didn’t break things as well,” Remus pleads with her voice and her eyes.

“Like the mirror on the bedroom door?” Sirius smiles weakly.

“Oh, I’d almost forgotten about that! In my defence, I told you hanging a mirror on the door was a bad idea.” 

“I’m not the one who slammed the door though, that was all you.” Sirius is actually laughing a little now and Remus thinks,  _ crisis averted. _

“There’s more stuff in here,” Harry says, pulling a leather jacket out next.

Sirius grabs it and holds it out in front of her. “Oh this, I remember. I used to wear it absolutely everywhere. I can’t believe you kept it Remus.”

“Well, when I had to move out of the flat, I just packed all your things into boxes.” Remus shrugs and peers into the box. There’s a large jewellry box that she instantly recognizes.

She opens the box and carefully pulls out a locket. She doesn’t need to open it to know what’s inside, but she does anyway, revealing a picture of her and Sirius with their foreheads pressed together on one side, and one of James, Lily and Peter sitting together and laughing on the other. 

She is tempted to ask Sirius if she remembers, but before she can decide how much of a bad idea that is, Sirius speaks up. “I gave that to you, didn’t I? For your seventeenth birthday.”

Remus just nods, gently placing the locket back in the box and closing it. She replaces it in the cardboard box and says, “We don’t need to go through this one, I know there’s no junk in there.”

“Nonsense,” Sirius says, “It still needs organizing.” She pulls the box over to her space and picks up a clean box, scrawling ‘Marauders’ on the front. 

Sirius goes through the box carefully, spending some time on each object and explaining its significance to Harry. A photo of her and James sitting on the grass, laughing as hard as they can; sheets of parchment covered with prank ideas; a wedding photo of Sirius and Remus, dressed as the Best Woman and Maid Of Honor, respectively; an old cricket ball; a collection of concert tickets that Sirius had saved.

“And you call me sentimental,” Remus hums. 

“Actually I called you a hoarder. I just kept some things that are important to me.” Sirius finishes up sorting the box, closing the newly packed one a stacking it with the others. “I should really take these back upstairs before my old joints are too stiff to move.”

Sirius stands and stretches, her knees audibly popping as she straightens them out. She picks up one box with a dramatic groan and complains her way up the stairs. Harry stands next and holds a hand out to help Remus up, whose joints also crack as she stretches. 

“This has actually been kind of fun,” Harry says, lifting one of the boxes. “Sirius seems happy.”

Remus collapses onto the sofa, suddenly realizing how tired she is. There are only a few days left until the full moon, and she’s starting to feel it’s effects. “Yes, she does.” Harry leaves and Remus closes her eyes, and although she doesn’t intend to, is asleep before either him or Sirius return. 

* * *

They day they get to bring Teddy home is one of the best days of Remus’ life. 

His hair is a constantly changing rainbow and though his features hardly ever shift, he is partial to changing his nose a little to mimic the person holding him. He giggles and laughs and screams and crys. He still mostly crawls, but every so often he pulls himself up so he can take a few steps before falling back over again.

He loves pulling Sirius’ hair and patting Remus’ face and shrieks with delight when someone levitates something near him. He fills the cottage with noise and mess and his wonderful, bright presence. 

Sirius always seems to know exactly what he wants when he’s upset, and Remus is reminded of how good Sirius was with Harry when he was a baby. She is the first awake when he cries at night, the one Teddy wants to hold him when he is hurt. 

The maternal streak doesn’t come easy to Remus, but she learns not to flinch when Teddy reaches out to her, starts teaching  herself not to be constantly afraid of hurting him. It is so hard at first, she finds, to trust that Teddy is hers to keep, and no one is chasing them down to take this child away from the monster inside her. 

But she settles into it after a few months. It becomes a routine that she stops questioning, to wake up and go to Teddy’s room. To carry Teddy around the house, to hug him and and to play with him. He completes their little mismatched family.

In the garden, enjoying the early March heat, Remus watches Harry play with Teddy in the paddling pool, as she lounges in a sun chair. Sirius comes up behind her with glasses of lemonade. She sets them down on the table, and wraps her arms around Remus’ neck. Sirius kisses her temple, then rests her chin on the top of Remus’ head. Her skin is hot and sticky against Remus’ shoulders, but she sinks into the weight of Sirius, and knows that this is exactly where she wants to be. 


End file.
